


no boundary or barrier

by Nemainofthewater



Series: the 'Stop Klaus From Being More of a Moron' squad [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Ben Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Ben Hargreeves is a Good Brother, Death, Don't copy to another site, Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Swearing, ben is the major character death but we already knew that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 05:46:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18219011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemainofthewater/pseuds/Nemainofthewater
Summary: Ben dies. It's only in death that he finds other people willing to help him look after his brother.





	no boundary or barrier

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spikedpoppies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikedpoppies/gifts).



Ben dies.

 

He’s eighteen years old. He should be at college, figuring out how to live by himself for the first time, living off pot noodles and getting high and bitching about his classes. He shouldn’t be the veteran of hundreds of missions, with blood on his hands, terrified of losing control. Terrified that one day he won’t be able to reign Them back and that his whole family will suffer.

 

(He’s secretly glad that Klaus is always assigned look-out on missions. No matter how much he hates it, it means that there’s less of a chance that he’ll get hurt if They ever escape)

 

He dies and his brother falls apart.

 

He and Klaus were always the closest. The others… they’re so caught up in themselves that they don’t understand. What it’s like to be the freak of the family. The useless one, the one whose powers really are a curse, not something that you can use as a glorified party trick. They would hide out in the library together, avoiding Pogo and Luther, and Ben would read his fantasy novels and Klaus would put on his headphones and turn the music up as loud as it could go, and they would both escape for a while.

 

So it’s an understatement to say that when he dies Klaus does not take it well.

 

Ben spends hours after he dies, after he gives in to the panic and unwillingly abandons his brother, after Klaus gives in and turns back to the drugs, he spends hours talking to Klaus. Reciting bits of his favourite books to him. Lying next to him, intangible arms unable to touch him, but wanting to be close nonetheless.

 

(He steadfastly doesn’t look at the needles littering the bed. He isn’t brave enough to. Later, he promises himself, later he’ll think about it. But not now.)

 

When Klaus finally gets to sleep, it’s a relief.

 

“Well boy, it looks like your father fucked up once again.”

 

Ben jumps. Sinks through the bed and into the floor. Humiliated, he swears and tries to right himself. Fails. Give him a break ok, he’s only been a ghost for the past day. Couple of days? It can’t be more than three days. He’s lost track of time, damn it.

 

He gives a small yelp as he’s lifted out of the bed and set gently onto the floor.

 

“Sorry about that,” a soft male voice says, “We didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

“Speak for yourself. We absolutely did. It’s one of the small pleasures in life, and I’ll be damned if you take it away from me.”

 

Ben turns around. Behind him are…well he supposes that they must be ghosts if they can see him. An elderly woman, back straight as an iron, smoking a cigarette that never seemed to go out.

 

A young black man-in his thirties maybe?- wearing an NYPD uniform. His eyes are kind, that’s the thing that Ben notices about him. Kind eyes and a palpable sense of justice about him, the sort that Luther always wants to project but can never quite manage. The sort that Diego might eventually develop one day when he stops worrying so much about proving himself and more about helping.

 

And…

 

“Mom?” Ben whispers. To his shame he can feel tears spring to his eyes.

 

“Oh fuck, no, I’m sorry kid. I’m not your mother.”

 

His not-mom steps toward him tentatively and gives him an awkward pat on his back.

 

The black cop rolls his eyes?

 

“He’s not a spooked puppy Grace,” he says, “I mean you can actually touch him.”

 

“Fuck off Will,” Grace hisses back, “I’d like to see you do any better.”

 

Will snorts. Looks over at Ben. Visibly softens.

 

“I’m sorry Ben,” he says, “No one deserves to die this young. Do you mind if I give you a hug?”

 

Ben nods. Honestly, he has no idea what’s happening. It’s been a long day (three days?) so far and it looks like it’s shaping up to be an even longer and more stressful afterlife.

 

Will gives the best hugs.

 

“Heart-warming as this is,” comes the old lady’s voice, “Don’t you think that we should be getting to business?”

 

Grace rolls her eyes.

 

“Ignore her,” she advises, “We always do.”

 

“Hmph,” the old woman says, “Well that’s youngsters for you these days, no gratitude whatsoever. And stop thinking of me as an old woman,” she snaps, “I’m Charlotte to you. No more of this elderly nonsense.”

 

“Yes,” Will says discreetly into Ben’s ear, “She’s always like this. You’ll get used to it.”

 

“And don’t think I can’t hear you over there William,” Charlotte says, stabbing her cigarette toward him for emphasis, “My ears aren’t that far gone.”

 

“Now Benjamin,” Charlotte says, gimlet stare locked onto Ben’s eyes, “I won’t say that it isn’t a damned shame that you’ve died so young. But people die young every day. I’m not saying it’s not a tragedy, I’m saying it’s life. You however,” she jabs a pointed nail in Ben’s direction, “You’ve decided to make something of yourself after death. Did you mean it when you promised your brother that you’d never leave?”

 

“Of course!”

 

“Stupid,” Charlotte snorts, but there’s a shadow of a smile on her face that suggests approval, “Typically rash promise made by the young. You’ll do your brother no good if you expend all your energy on him and end up fading. I’ve seen it happen before, ghosts who spend so much of their essence that they’re no good for anyone.”

 

“What we’re trying to say,” Will interjects, glaring at Charlotte, “Is that you’re not alone in this Ben. We’ve been protecting Klaus for a while now, and we want to help you help him.”

 

“He can’t see us you see,” Grace says, “Won’t let himself. Not with all the shit he’s putting in his body. Trying to close himself off to the dead, but just because he can’t see us doesn’t mean we can’t see him, yeah? And not everyone’s as nice as we are.”

 

“Are you saying that you’ve been protecting him?” Ben asks.

 

“Obviously,” Charlotte says.

 

“We can protect him from most of the physical threats,” Will says, “But there are only three of us. And we can’t risk any of us fading.”

 

“And it’s not like Klaus can see us anymore. But he can see you. Even when he’s so fucked up he can’t remember his own name, he can still see you.”

 

“What are you saying?” Ben asks.

 

“We’re saying,” Charlotte says, “That we’re all here to protect Klaus. And that if you’re really serious about sticking around then we’re here to help you too. In any case, we need as many people as possible to beat some sense into your brother’s thick skull.”

 

Ben looks at them. All of them determined. All of them willing to help. Somehow, while no one was paying attention including Klaus himself, he’s managed to find himself protectors.

 

“Thank you,” he says helplessly.

 

Grace waves a hand dismissively.

 

“Don’t thank me,” she says, “I’m planning on living a long, fulfilling afterlife. Because when that fucker Reggie dies? He’s mine.”

 

The three of them no longer look so benevolent. Nor so harmless. Ben… he knows that he should love his father, right? That’s what all his books say, what popular culture says, what his mom says. But he can’t help it. He feels an answering grin split his lips as he imagines what, ahem, training he can impart to dear old dad once he arrives in the afterlife.

 

“Yes,” says Charlotte contently, smoke wreathing her head, “I think you’ll fit in just fine around here.”


End file.
